


A "Cigarette Smoking Street Urchin"

by dumbbfuckk



Category: Batman - All Media Types, DCU
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-04
Updated: 2016-01-04
Packaged: 2018-05-10 19:25:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,015
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5597908
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dumbbfuckk/pseuds/dumbbfuckk
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A look at Jason as a street kid.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A "Cigarette Smoking Street Urchin"

**Author's Note:**

> This fic was inspired by a post (http://korivnder.tumblr.com/post/135651779507/korivnder-things-that-are-gross-how-every-meta) written by tumblr user korivnder.

Jason remembered pausing by the window on his way to his mother's bedside and looking out towards the city lights.

If he looked long enough, maybe he'd see the flash of a black cowl or hear the laugh of the boy who was lucky enough to follow the dark knight.

Maybe, just maybe, Batman would stop and see him, pluck him from the dusty apartment and take him away to a place where people did no wrong.

If only he looked long enough.

But his mother's weak voice beckoned him back to reality. Daydreaming could wait for another day.

One of the first things that Jason learned from being on the streets is that you can't wait for anyone to save you.

On the streets, there is no room to daydream about a man in a black mask who fights evil and saves the broken people of Crime Alley. There are only the thoughts of food and shelter and sleep that occupy Jason's mind.

The smoking curbs the hunger, or so he's been told. He spies the lit cigarette a few feet away from its slumbering owner. He snatches it off the sidewalk and ducks behind a building. 

The first inhale is horrible but Jason holds it in and forces himself to exhale without coughing. No one is there to tell him it was impressive for his first time but then again, there is nothing impressive about a kid with a cigarette in his mouth on this part of the town.

He hates the taste because it's just like everything else in this city: disgusting and dirty. And just like everything else, he grows accustomed to it.

The winters are the worst and Jason's first on the streets is one of the harshest that Gotham has seen. He had been looking for food for days and had been barely managing to get by.

Jason hadn't realized how much closer he had moved towards Gotham's downtown as the cold settled in but he found himself tucked in an alleyway on one of the busiest streets.

He watched as people passed back and forth in front of him as they tried to get last minute gifts for the holidays. No one passed a glance at the young boy shivering under a thin scarf that he used as a makeshift blanket.

God, he just wanted a cigarette. At least the warmth it brought or the distraction he welcomed.

He was so tired. Maybe if he just closed his eyes for a second, he could forget the hunger pains.

"Hey, kid, wake up! Get up or you'll freeze to death."

Jason shook the drowsiness off and focused on finding the source of the voice. His vision was still a little bleary but he could feel a man staring down at him just behind his right shoulder.

Normally, Jason would never let anyone get this close to him. Too many encounters forced Jason to be a light sleeper; he would jump with fists flying at anyone who looked at him too long.

"C'mon, kid, get up," he whispered, "You can't be falling asleep in the snow like that. Get up!"

Something about the urgency in the man's voice forced Jason to his feet. He leaned against the wall on his left side and turned to face the man.

"He looks like Santa Claus," was the first thing Jason thought.

"Well, if Santa were skinny, his beard was more brown than white, and wore rags instead of a red suit," was the second thing.

"Santa's not real," he told himself sternly in the third and final thought before taking a step towards the man.

Jason didn't know why he trusted this man. Maybe it was because he didn't have any other option besides freezing. Maybe it was because it was Christmas Eve and Jason needed a miracle. He told himself it was the former.

Jason wobbled and the man saw that he could barely walk without the wall's support.

"C'mere, kid," the man wrapped a supporting arm around Jason's shoulders and helped him walk further down the alley.

"Ain't see you around here before. It's the worst when you see kids out here alone. One thing you gotta know about living on the streets, kid, is no one gives a damn about us. No one's gonna save you. But us folk, the ones you share the life with, we look out for each other."

Jason looked up to see the telltale glow of a fire. Men and women and children alike, dressed in mismatched clothes, all huddled around the burning trash can.

A few people greeted the man as he took Jason near the fire.

"Here you go, kid. This'll warm you up and you can forget your troubles for a bit and lighten up! It's Christmas, after all," the man clapped Jason on the back with one hand and held a bottle in the other.

"It's Christmas Eve, you dumbass!" came the joking voice of one of the bonfire occupants.

"Oh, shut it, Darrell, your dumbass doesn't even know what year it is," came the annoyed response of the woman next to him.

"Aw, Chrissie, you know I was just kiddin'..." the man and woman bickered while most of those around them looked on with amused smiles.

Jason took the bottle that the man offered and quickly drank some. He didn't ask what it was but it burned a little on the way down and made the shivering stop for a bit so he had a pretty good idea.

He stared into the fire and was struck with the realization that it really was Christmas Eve. He thought dimly about how different it was the year before with his mother. 

His mother...

Jason let the raucous laughter disturb his thoughts.

As he had a few more drinks from the not-so-mysterious bottle and was much warmer, he became the one who was telling the jokes and stories.

For the first time in a long time, Jason didn't worry about anything.

For the first time in a long time, Jason was okay.


End file.
